Moments in Time
by MadalineGrace
Summary: A collection of one-shots based on the show. Mostly hurt/comfort stories centered around Wyatt. Some will be episode tags others will up to the imagination.
1. Chapter 1

**Tag to 1x02 - A poorly treated gunshot wound in 1865 would, of course, become infected.**

"This would take fifteen minutes to patch back home. Here I'm gonna die of sepsis."

He'd meant the comment to be sarcastic, but now the awful truth was painfully apparent.

Once they had started the trek back to the Lifeboat, the strain of Wyatt's wound had begun to show. At first, he had brushed off their concerns, mumbling that he was fine. Then he began stumbling clumsily and wavering from side to side. Without a word, Lucy and Rufus had ducked under his arms. To their surprise and dismay, Wyatt didn't protest. With each step, his breathing became more shallow and ragged.

"Come on, we're close. Just a little farther, okay?" Lucy urged, her voice trembling a little. Wyatt nodded jerkily. He was shivering so hard that it was difficult to control his movements. He was barely on his feet as it was. Rufus and Lucy each had one of his arms slung over their shoulders.

"One more mile, man. Then we'll get you back home and get you pumped full of the good stuff, alright?" Rufus said, panting a little. He couldn't help but feel a bit guilty at the intense heat radiating off Wyatt. If he'd done a better job patching him up…

Rufus's thoughts were interrupted as Wyatt's knees suddenly buckled and his full weight crashed down on them. Wyatt was no lightweight and they nearly fell to the ground.

"Wyatt!" Lucy's voice was filled with fear. She had read about the infected wounds that had killed thousands during the Civil War, but seeing it up close was terrifying. In a matter of hours, the confident, decisive soldier had deteriorated into the weak and feverish man she now struggled to hold up. Wyatt coughed harshly.

"J-jus'…just gimme a minute." He panted. "Lemme sit down." He sagged even further in their grip, his eyes fluttering shut. A sheen of sweat coated his ashen face.

"Don't think that's a good idea, man."

"Wyatt, stay with us. Stay awake." Lucy tried to sound as calm as possible, but she knew she was failing miserably. When he didn't respond, she gave him a little shake. "Wyatt! Open your eyes." After a moment, his glassy blue eyes opened again and struggled to focus on her.

"Lucy…"

"Listen to me. We're almost there. I need you to stay with me a little longer. Can you do that?"

"Y-yes ma'am." He murmured, his eyes closed, but a small half smile playing across his lips. Lucy nodded to Rufus and together they started forward once more. To his credit, Wyatt did his best carry his own weight. However, by the time they made it to the Lifeboat, he was struggling just to put one foot in front of the other. He leaned against the machine as Rufus climbed in first, gasping for breath and shaking harder than ever. He was so out of it that he barely noticed when Rufus grabbed him under the arms and hauled him into the machine. Between him and Lucy, they managed to maneuver Wyatt into his seat. When he made no move to fasten his own seatbelt, Lucy leaned forward and grabbed the straps. After a minute of fumbling with the buckle, she managed to secure it.

"Wyatt?" She asked tentatively, placing a hand on his flushed cheeks. "Can you hear me?" He groaned softly, leaning into her touch.

"Jess?" Lucy froze.

"No, it's Lucy, remember?" He said nothing, and Lucy guessed that he had passed out. Rufus glanced back at them over his shoulder.

"Ready?" She nodded and within seconds the awful, sickening motion the machine started.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

The Lifeboat crashed back into the present, jolting them hard. As soon as the dizziness faded, Lucy and Rufus were undoing the straps of Wyatt's seatbelt and lifting him from the chair.

"Wyatt needs a doctor!"

A moment later, he slid from their grip and crashed to the tile floor. Immediately he was swarmed by men in uniform and they quickly carried him off. Lucy tried to follow, but Agent Christopher stopped her. She threw one last desperate look at the limp form supported between two medics.


	2. Chapter 2

**A little, nonspecific bit of hurt/comfort. Picture whatever time period and situation you like! If you have any prompts or ideas, please feel free to let me know!**

"Wyatt! Wyatt, oh my God. Please don't be dead." She begged. Two trembling finger pressed against his throat. Coughing, Wyatt struggled to open his eyes.

"Lucy…" He whispered breathlessly. She jumped at the sound of his voice and he nearly laughed.

"Oh thank God! I thought you were dead. I can't find Rufus and you're bleeding, oh God, there's so much-"

"Lucy, breathe." Wyatt interrupted. He gave her hand a little squeeze.

"Right. Right, I'm sorry. What do I do? I've never done anything like this before." Her hands hovered uncertainly over him, as if afraid that by touching him she'd make it worse.

"You…need to…put p-pressure on the wound. Use…your scarf…" He gasped. Wyatt knew that he was losing too much blood, but he lacked the strength to spare Lucy from the awful task of staunching the flow from the gaping hole in his chest.

Lucy's eye's widened and she looked like she might pass out. With shaking hands, she fumbled with the knot of her scarf before balling it up. She gave him one last frightened look, then pressed it onto the wound. Immediately, white hot agony flared in his chest and he cried out. His back arched as if he'd been electrocuted.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry." Lucy apologized, easing up a bit.

"No," Wyatt breathed, "no, keep the p-pressure. Have t' keep the….pressure." She nodded and pressed down again, trying to ignore the blood welling up between her fingers. Wyatt's ashen face went paler still and his eyes rolled back.

"Wyatt? Hey, stay awake! Don't leave me!" Lucy shook him, eliciting a groan of protest.

"'m not goin' anywhere." He mumbled, his Texas accent bleeding through. He broke into a coughing fit that flecked his lips with spots of red. Lucy pulled him into her lap, propping his chest against hers. It seemed to ease his breathing a bit and he sagged into her.

"Stay with me, okay? Rufus will find us and we'll get you home and everything's gonna be alright." Lucy said, more to reassure herself than anything. When Wyatt didn't respond, she tapped his cheek.

"Hey! Stay awake! No sleeping on the job." She ordered.

"Trying…" He whispered, but it was clear that he was losing the battle. He coughed again, and blood stained his teeth.

"Shhhh, don't try to talk." Lucy soothed. Desperate to give him something to focus on, she wracked her brain.

"You know, not many people know that General Patton…" She began, plunging into the little known secrets of the man's life. Wyatt clung to every word as if it were a lifeline.


	3. Chapter 3

Filthy, exhausted, and sick at heart, the three member of their ragtag team climbed back into the Lifeboat. As per routine, Wyatt wordlessly leaned forward and secured Lucy's seat belt while Rufus prepped the machine. This time, however, his hands trembled slightly as he buckled her in. This time, he didn't give one of his trademark half smiles and call her ma'am. Instead, he said nothing and avoided eye contact. As Lucy looked closer, she saw that Wyatt looked awful. Beneath the blood and grime, he was pale and his eyes were red rimmed. She felt a stab of sympathy for him. Being dropped into the war had been tough on all of them, but, as the soldier, Wyatt had been in the thick of it. He had been on the front lines, watching as young men died next to him. While she and Rufus had seen their own share of horrors from their position, they were nowhere near where Wyatt had been. Even the most hardened soldier would have been affected, she was sure. The battle had been intense and he was more than likely a little shell shocked. She ached for a way to comfort him, but what words could she say to make it better? She settled on giving his knee a small squeeze, which earned her small nod. Moments later, the dizzying motion of time travel had them hurtling back into the present.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

As they debarked from the lifeboat, Wyatt stumbled slightly. Lucy frowned, but chalked it up to dizziness from the machine and fatigue. When Agent Christopher, flanked by Mason and Jiyah, approached them, Wyatt pointedly avoided eye contact and brushed past them.

"Logan! We need you report." Christopher called after him, preparing to follow. Lucy stopped her with a touch on the arm.

"Let him go." She said quietly. "We can tell you everything. He's done enough today." Rufus nodded.

"Give him some time to get his head right." He agreed. Christopher looked like she wanted to argue, but agreed.

"I take it the mission was a success?" Lucy bit down on a harsh laugh. _Success_? Sure, they had stopped Flynn from crippling the Allied defense against Germany, but so many had died that even she was beginning to question her stance on historical interference. Shoving those thoughts away, she described the events of the mission, all the while watching Wyatt walk unsteadily out of the room.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

Wyatt knew he shouldn't be driving. His hands were shaking so hard now that he could barely grip the wheel and his ears were still ringing from the gunfire and shells. He was just so desperate to leave, to get away from the prying eyes, that he found he didn't care. By some miracle, managed to make it back to his place alive. He parked badly and stumbled into his apartment, where he made a beeline for the kitchen. Bottle of whiskey in hand, he slid to the floor to lean against the cabinets. His whole body was shaking now as the events of the past three days caught up to him. Taking a generous swig from the bottle, he relished the burning sensation as the alcohol slid down his throat. Soon, half the bottle was gone. Just as he'd known driving wasn't a smart decision, he also knew he should probably put the bottle gone. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten or slept and past experience warned him against the dangers of drinking after a firefight. What was it his captain had told him? Alcohol after combat is like gas on a fire. As he mulled that over, he took another long pull.

On some level, he felt ashamed. Why was a highly trained special forces combat veteran like himself losing it after one battle?

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

Lucy and Rufus stood uncertainly outside Wyatt's front door.

"I hope he's not sleeping." She said.

"Trust me, he's not." Rufus replied, knocking. They waited a moment.

"Wyatt?" Lucy called tentatively. There was crash from inside that sounded like glass shattering. They shared an alarmed look. "Wyatt? What's going on?" She tried the handle, surprised to find it open.

"Definitely not sleeping then." Rufus muttered as he and Lucy ran to kitchen. Wyatt was slumped against the cabinets. Shards of glass from an empty whiskey bottle surrounded him and his had was bleeding profusely from a large gash.

"Wyatt?" Lucy gave could smell the alcohol on his breath. She glanced down at the broken bottle. "Did he drink all of this?" she asked incredulously. Rufus shrugged and wrapped a washcloth around Wyatt's hand.

"That's be my guess." He said quietly. They were both taking in the blood, mud, and gunpowder that still clung to his skin.

"Alright, come on Wyatt. Wake up." Lucy said loudly, giving him a little shake. Wyatt groaned.

"G'way…" He slurred.

"Not a chance. Now open your eyes." She commanded. After a moment, he blinked his eyes open, wincing at the overhead light.

"Lucy? Why's my han' hurt?"

"You tell us, buddy." Rufus said as he swept up the broken glass.

"Rufus…why's there s'many people here?"

"Because we were worried about you…and with good reason. What the hell were you thinking?" Lucy scolded. Wyatt offered no defense, just a look that held so much sadness and loss and Lucy felt her heart breaking. Her faced softened. "Come on. Shower then bed." Before he could argue, she and Rufus hauled him to his feet and all but dragged him to the bathroom. While attempting to preserve his dignity as much as possible, they helped wash the filth of war from the soldier. Wyatt leaned passively against the shower wall as the water revealed a startling number of bruises. One shaped suspiciously like a boot darkened his chest.

Once they had dried him off, wrestled him into a pair of pajama bottoms, and bandaged his hand, they faced the task of maneuvering him into bed. Just as they started to leave the bathroom, Wyatt paled even further and collapsed in front of the toilet, heaving miserably. Lucy knelt next to him and placed what she hoped was a comforting hand on his back. She whispered meaningless words of comfort to him as she rubbed slow circles. When it seemed as if the retching had tapered off, she turned his face to look at her.  
"Ready to try again?" She asked. She nodded to Rufus and, more slowly this time, they managed to carry the semi-conscious man to his bedroom. From a frame on the nightstand, a pretty blonde smiled up at them.

As they laid him on the bed, Wyatt mumbled something. Lucy leaned closer.

"What?"

"Don' have t' stay." She smiled and gently pushed his damp hair from his forehead.

"Well I don't think you should be alone right now. Just get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

Once Wyatt was settled, Rufus left to go get some rest. Despite the tiredness she felt, Lucy stayed. She couldn't get that lost, broken look Wyatt had given her out of her mind. In his sleep, Wyatt looked more vulnerable than she was used to seeing him. With his expression unguarded, he looked much younger. She wondered how long it had been since he'd last slept. Too long, judging by the dark, bruise shadows around his eyes. With his uninjured hand clasped in hers, Lucy dozed off with her head on the edge of the bed.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

It was nearly two hours later when Lucy jerked awake. On the bed, Wyatt was thrashing from side to side, his legs hopelessly entangled in the sheets.

"Wyatt?" She placed a hand on an unbruised section of his chest. "Shhhhh, it's okay. It's alright." She soothed. She kept up the litany of soothing words until the desperate struggle calmed. In the moonlight filtering through the curtains, she could see tears glittering on his cheeks and she gently wiped them away with her thumb. "You're safe now." She whispered. After a minute, he passed out again, still mumbling inaudibly to himself.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

Wyatt awoke to bright sunshine assaulting his eyes. He groaned as he threw back the covers. Last night was a blur, but judging from the hangover, it had involved more than his fair share of alcohol. On wobbly legs, he stepped into the kitchen and froze at the sight of Lucy Preston sipping coffee at his kitchen table.

"Morning." She said with a small smile. Bits of the previous night flashed through his mind.

"Oh God…" Lucy laughed and handed him a glass of water.

"How's the hangover?"

"Lucy, I am so sorry. You didn't have to come. I-"

"Hey," she said, cutting him off, "like it or not, we're in this together. You would have done the same for me."

"About last night…" he began, but Lucy just winked at him.

"As far as I'm concerned, nothing happened last night." Wyatt gave her a small, tentative half smile.

"Yes ma'am."

 **This started off with a completely different plot, but as I started writing it, this one seems to work better. Hopefully you all enjoyed it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Tag to 1x05. My take on how the conversation with Bam Bam should've gone. After a long, hard mission, Wyatt needs a good friend to set him straight**.

"Hey, Bam Bam!" Wyatt called down the stairs. "Hold on." Baumgartner paused and turned, a grin spreading across his face.

"Wyatt Logan! What are you doing here?" He asked, pulling the other man into a firm hug. As they pulled apart, he frowned. Wyatt looked terrible. He was pale, his eyes bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles. Dozens of fresh cuts and bruises littered the man's skin and there was a rather painful looking gash near his hairline. Beyond that, Baumgartner could also see the lines of stress and fatigue etched into his friend's face. Years of serving with Wyatt had taught him how to look for just those signs.

"Heard you were stealing our oxygen." Wyatt said hoarsely, the attempt at normal banter sounding forced.

"Well, they dragged me down from Pendleton – won't tell me crap – now they're flying me back." Baumgartner glanced pointedly at the powder burns on Wyatt's hand. "Don't suppose you know what's going on?"

"What do you think?" Wyatt said, a faint smile playing across his lips.

"I figured. Fact that you're here means this thing's seriously FUBAR." Wyatt laughed to himself, but, like before, it sounded false and brittle. "It's good seeing you." Baumgartner paused, scrutinizing the other man. Wyatt's eyes had the jumpy look he usually only saw in junkies…and men fresh out of combat. "You doing okay, Logan?" Wyatt frowned.  
"What do you mean?"

"Come on. I know you better than anyone. You look like you went ten rounds with the Hulk and your hands are shaking. What've they got you doing?"

"I…I can't…" Wyatt stammered, clearly taken aback by the question. "You know I can't tell you."

"Did they at least let you get some down time? You're looking rough, man. How long have you been back from whatever they just had you doing?"

"About forty-five minutes, why?"

"Why? Jesus…look, I get it, you can't tell me what's going on, but you know as well as I do what'll if you don't take time to decompress after a firefight. How long are they giving you between missions?" Wyatt paused and thought back.

"Depends. Sometimes it's a day, sometimes it's a few hours. But I'm fine. Little tired, sure, but nothing I haven't done before, right?" He said, clapping Baumgartner on the shoulder in an attempt at levity.

"Wyatt, don't just brush this off." Baumgartner warned. "Take some time and get your head straight. Right now you look like you're barely holding it together. Talk to someone." Wyatt looked away. Baumgartner took a seat on the metal bench and, after a moment, Wyatt joined him.

"Must've been rough." Baumgartner said quietly.

"Yeah." Was all Wyatt said, all he could say.

"You know, the guys back at base, they're all worried about you. First you stop picking up the phone, then you go off the grid. We stopped by your place and all we found was a lot of empty bottles. Next thing we know, we're being told you've been assigned to something with Homeland."

"Yeah." Wyatt repeated, his gaze drilling holes in the tile floor. Baumgartner put a hand on his shoulder.

"Look, I know you're still dealing with what happened to Jess…and with what happened in Syria. I just want to make sure that you're up for whatever this is." Wyatt took a moment, then nodded.

"This assignment," he said slowly "is all that's keeping me sane now." He admitted. "It's hard, but it's important. My team's good."

"Good. Make sure you have each other's backs. I don't wanna hear about you coming back injured." Baumgartner said. He gave Wyatt's shoulder a squeeze, then stood. "I gotta catch my ride, but promise you'll keep in touch, alright? I get that you can't tell me specifics, but you can still talk to me."

"Promise. And…I'm sorry about before. I shouldn't have shut you guys out like that." Baumgartner smiled.

"Just remember you've still got all of us behind you. I'll see you soon, Wyatt. Take care of yourself." They embraced once more, clapping each other on the back.

"You too, Bam Bam."

As Baumgartner walked out of the room, Wyatt sat back down on the bench. Ever since they'd first served together, Bam Bam had always been able to talk him down and set him straight. It calmed him to know that at least that hadn't changed. Earlier he'd told Lucy that he had no one left, but as he sat there, he began to realize that that wasn't exactly true. He still had ten guys back at base who he loved like brothers and could count on for anything. Now today, after seeing the way Lucy and Rufus had fought for him, the loneliness eased. There was still the gaping hole in his life that was Jess, but at least for now, the emptiness didn't feel as bad.


	5. Chapter 5

**The team travels to 1793 and is forced to contend with an enemy they can't fight with fists or firepower.**

It was late by the time they had finished thwarting Flynn's latest attempt at destroying fledgling America. Despite the fact that Flynn had escaped, they were all relatively pleased with themselves. After all, not everyone could say that they had saved the lives of the founding fathers. In the growing darkness, they decided to wait until morning to head back to the Lifeboat. They had landed quite a distance from Philadelphia and it would be a full day's walk back. Exhausted, they used the coins Mason had provided them with to rent a room at an inn under the guise of a married couple and their slave. Rufus, none too happy about the arrangement, quickly forgot his complaints has threw himself onto the small sofa. Within a few minutes, he was asleep. Lucy laughed softly, then turned to Wyatt.

"Ummm, could you…turn around for a moment?" She asked shyly, holding up the night gown the innkeeper's wife had lent her. Wyatt nodded.

"Sure thing…ma'am." A small smile tugged at his mouth. Lucy frowned.

"You okay?" She asked. Wyatt was pale and a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin.

"Yeah, just beat. Get some rest, Lucy." With that, he laid down and closed his eyes. A moment later, his breathing evened out and an occasional soft snore escaped his lips. Lucy smiled fondly down at him. The more they worked together, the more she came to like him. Beneath the gruff and cocky soldier façade, she'd come to realize that there was a lot more to Wyatt Logan.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS –

Lucy awoke to the sound of harsh coughing from the other bed. In the early morning light that had begun to filter through the curtains, she could see Wyatt's huddled form beneath the blankets. He coughed again, a wet and painful sound. She quickly walked over to his bed and gasped. Wyatt lay shivering in a tangle of sweat soaked blankets. His cheeks, flushed with fever, stood out in sharp contrast to his ashen skin.

"Wyatt?" She placed a hand on his forehead and was startled by the intense heat radiating off of him. Moaning softly, he leaned into her touch. "Wyatt? Can you hear me?" When he didn't respond, Lucy picked up a pillow and threw it at the sofa.

"Wha'?" Rufus muttered sleepily as the pillow hit him in the face.

"Rufus, Wyatt's sick." In a moment, Rufus was at her side, staring down at Wyatt.

"He was fine yesterday. What the hell happened?" Lucy bit her lip, an awful thought occurring to her. Rufus noticed and met her eyes. "Lucy? What is it?"

"I'm…I'm not a doctor, but…"

"But what?" She took a deep breath.

"In 1793, there was a massive yellow fever outbreak in Philadephia. Over five thousand people were killed."

"You don't think…."

"I don't know, but I don't want to take a chance. We need to get him back to the present now." She said, wetting a cloth in the small basin of water in the corner of the room. She laid the cloth across Wyatt's forehead. "Watch him while I go talk to the innkeeper. Maybe they'll lend us a horse or something. Try to get his fever down."

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS –

Rufus looked up at Lucy hopefully as she walked back into the room. The last half hour with Wyatt was scaring him more than he'd like to admit. In all that time, he hadn't been fully conscious. Occasionally he mumbled something nonsensical to himself as he tossed his head restlessly from side to side.

"He said that he could have a horse and wagon for us in about an hour. I fed him some story about taking Wyatt to stay with family near Jenkintown. He gave us this," she said, holding up a jug of water, "and told us to make sure he drinks enough." She came and perched on the edge of the bed, gently pushing Wyatt's damp hair from his forehead. As she did so, he blinked his fever bright eyes up at them.

"Hey, I think he's coming around." Rufus said, replacing the cloth on Wyatt's forehead.

"Wyatt? You with me?" Lucy asked, taking his clammy hand and giving it a little squeeze. He blinked slowly a few times, struggling to focus on her.

"Lucy? What's…where?" He voice was hoarse and barely louder than a whisper.

"Shh, it's alright. We're in Philadelphia, remember? You got sick. We're gonna get you out of here soon, okay?" She said, giving what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "Do you think you could drink a little water?" He nodded weakly. Rufus helped him into a semi-sitting position and Lucy held the bottle to his lips. After a few sips, he turned his head away.

"Just a little more. You need to stay hydrated." Lucy coaxed, but Wyatt shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

"Hurts…" He whispered. He gasped and tried to curl in on himself.

"What hurts? Is it your stomach? Wyatt?" A moment later, he was leaning to the side and losing what little water he had managed to drink. When he had finished, he lay exhausted and panting on the bed. Lucy and Rufus shared a terrified look.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS –

With the help of the innkeeper, they managed to carry Wyatt to the small covered wagon parked in front. As they settled him in, the innkeeper squeezed Lucy's shoulder gently.

"He'll be alright, Mrs. Logan. The country air should have him well in no time." He said kindly. Lucy thanked him and sat down next to Wyatt. She nodded to Rufus who, using skills he had only just learned a week previous, steered the horse through the winding streets. In the back of the wagon, Lucy held Wyatt's hand as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Periodically, she wet another cloth and mopped his brow and tried to give him small sips of water. While the historian in her was fascinated by everything around her, concern for Wyatt was at the forefront of her thoughts. Glancing down, she was surprised to see a pair of hazy, half-lidded blue eyes watching her.

"Hey." She said softly, rubbing a thumb over his cheek.

"Hey." His voice was weak and barely audible.

"We're almost back to the lifeboat. We'll get you home soon." She promised. Wyatt didn't say anything for a minute. Then,

"You guys…okay?" He asked, clearly struggling to put his thoughts together.

"We're fine, just worried about you." Lucy said with a small smile.

"Don' need t' worry…be okay." He mumbled, his eyes closing again.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS –

The rest of the ride passed for him a feverish blur. Lucy's heart broke as she watched Wyatt murmuring to himself. Near the end, he began calling out desperately for his wife.

"Jessica…please, Jess…Jess…"

"Shhh, just rest, Wyatt. We're almost home." The words felt useless, but what else could she say to a man hallucinating his dead wife?

When at last they reached the Lifeboat, she and Rufus hauled his limp form into the machine. Together they managed to get him into the chair. Coughing, Wyatt sagged against the seatbelt, the only thing holding him upright. Lucy turned to Rufus.

"Let's go home."

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS –

After nearly three days, Wyatt finally seemed to be turning the corner. Lucy sat in the chair next to his hospital bed, trying to keep her eyes open. Staring off into the dimly lit room, she thought about just how close they'd come to losing him.

After they'd landed in the present, there had been a desperate rush to get him to a hospital. Both Wyatt's breathing and heartrate had plummeted and as they pulled him form the machine, blood began trickling from his nose. Lucy and Rufus had tried to follow, but they were quickly quarantined. They had spent a full day getting every sort of test possible run. Eventually, the doctors had cleared them, but neither went home. Instead, they'd gone straight to Wyatt's room. While still sick and weak, Lucy was happy to see that he looked at least a little better. His fever was lower and the IV fluids and antibiotics seemed to be doing their job.

A sudden noise drew her attention back to the bed. Wyatt's eyes were half open and he was fumbling with the oxygen cannula beneath his nose.

"Hey, leave that alone." She said, taking his hand and lowering it gently to his side. "You still need that." He squinted up at her, confusion written clearly on his face.

"Lucy?"

"Welcome back." She said with her first genuine smile in days.

"Where'd I go?" He asked groggily, his eyes darting around the room. "Hospital?"

"What do you remember?" Wyatt thought for a moment.

"We stopped Flynn and decided to stay the night in Philly…that's all I got."

"You got sick. Yellow fever. Doctors said we were vulnerable because our immune systems had never been exposed. That night in the motel, you're fever spiked. We barely got you back here in time." She explained. He took a moment to process it all.

"You and Rufus…did you guys get sick?" He asked, eyes casting around for the third member of their team. Lucy shook her head.

"Just you, I'm afraid. We were quarantined for a while, but they cleared us. We've been here ever since. Rufus is on a coffee run." Wyatt looked stunned.

"You didn't have to stay." He said quietly, suddenly very interested in the pattern of the sheets. Lucy squeezed his arm and he met her gaze.

"We're a team. We stick together. It's what we do. We're not leaving you any more than you're leaving us."

 **Just a little side note, I am not a doctor. Google told me a bit about Yellow Fever and I used creative license to come up with the rest. I apologize for any medical inaccuracies!**


End file.
